Chapter 1
Genevieve’s Wish


(Child’s POV)


My name is Genevieve de Changy. I am five years old, and I want to be a doctor when I grow up. Papa is off on his naval ship, again, and Mama is at the Opera rehearsing. My Governess gave me this diary to help me with my penmanship. After this we sewed, (which is important for doing surgery,) then we took my sketchbook to the park, parc de l'île Saint-Germain, it is so pretty there when the sun is out! If only that rabbit would sit still for me! My Governess taps me on the shoulder,
“Time to go in.”
It is so hard to get up with my corset squeezing me, hard to get up without getting my dress dirty, it simply will not do! I take my Governess’ hand, and she helps me up, together we walk back across the strada, via meeting Mama on the way home for tea. We play Mad tè Party to help me remember my manners. Papa says he doesn't know how that helps, but when he’s home he is glad to be the Mad Hatter!
‘I sewed a straight line of stitches today.” I proclaimed!
“I’m very proud of te sweetie” affirms Mama
“When Is Papa coming home?” I ask.
“Your Papa comes home today,” she smiled.
“He loved getting a letter from you,” My Governess reminded me. My penmanship was illegible!
“I hope he stays,” I pout.
“I know te Amore him… Presents cannot make up for Lost time... “ Mama sighed.
I didn't mean to make her sad!
“I- I’m sorry Mama”
Just then there’s a clattering outside. Papa’s home!
I ran to the door, “Papa!” I squeal.
“I missed you..” Papa hugs me without looking at me, he stands up and kisses Mama.
The manservants carry his steamer tronco they grunt and groan making me believe it’s too heavy!
“There must be a pony in here!” they jest.
“Let Me see what I have here” Papa opens the tronco rummaging as if he can't find what he’s looking for… I hold my breath
“Here it is,” he announces, handing me the book of Grimms Fairy Tales“Want to hear about my battle with the Cracken?” He picks me up and I giggle.
“Oh My…” my Governess rolls her eyes.
He showed me during the story his heroics, swinging his sword wildly, “Can I try?” I asked.
“The sword is too heavy,” Papa worried, “I Amore te I can’t let anything happen to you” He looked me in the eye and tore me up, I hugged him... He holds me tight. I wonder why I make him sad.
“I wish I never had to sleep!”
“Why?” Papa asks with concern.
“Because Ihate the dark!” my lip quivers.
“It’s OK, you're safe… I’ll sleep in the chair” Papa always did… when he was home.
Mama tells me one of her Daddy’s stories, it makes her smile, She sings an old Swedish Lullaby, her voice is the most beautiful in the world.
“Misour, te need your rest, let me stay with her,” offers my Governess.
“I have slept in less comfortable places than a rocking chair as of late” He replied crispily.
My Governess and Mama go to bed.
Papa reads me The Sleeping Beauty, and afterward, I stare at the picture of the Prince fighting the dragon intensely!




***
(Papa’s POV)


“She just stared at the prince until her eyes closed,” I told my wife.
“Maybe she thinks he’s handsome” Christine didn’t see how the stare was!
“I don’t think that’s right it’s only a drawing…?”
“Maybe if I took her to the Opera, women play boys there.” What on earth did that have to do with this?
“It is too dangerous!” I barked, “I agreed to let te perform so te didn’t have to ask for money when I didn’t have the time to give te some, but Genevieve is a child!”
I worried after Erik… After Philippe… I knew my daughter was strange.
“What if I tell her about La Sorelli before I take her? “She looks più like Philippe to me”
“You think I don’t know that? I mean It’s getting to where it makes me sad to look at her!” I exclaimed.
Genevieve had heard every word, for when I turned around, she looked half-asleep.
“I don’t belong to you?” bursting into tears she ran from the room.
(Child’s POV)
Where was my real Papa? And my Mama was another Woman? Why did she not want me? I had cried all I could. I went to the Musica room.
“Who are you? If te are not my Mama?
“I’m your Aunt,” detto the only Mama I knew. “Genevieve, I Amore you” She flung her arms around me.
“My Papa?’ I asked.
“He drowned before te were born. Your Uncle Raoul felt devastated… He has something to mostra te “ I strolled to my Papa’s study, at least that is who I thought he was…
I knocked.
“Come in Geneieve”
I walked in. He was looking me in the eye!
“What should I call you?” I asked.
“I Amore being your Papa… Now te know the truth… Would te like to see a picture of him”?
I nodded.
He showed me a photograph “He has straight hair like me” I noticed.
“And te have his smile and his laugh… Your imagination must have come from your mother.”
“And Aunt Christine” I sighed.
“What is it?” Papa asked.
“I want to call te my Papa” I flung myself on his lap.
“That’s okay… the important thing is we are a family”
I sighed this time with relief.
“Do te know why I call te Miricle?”
“Why?” I smile
“Because when I Lost Phileppe I was devastated when we found out about you, it was like God had dato me the chance to make things right because he died trying to save me..”
“I Amore te Papa” I hug him tight.
“Why do te want to be a doctor?” Papa asks.
“Because I want to,” I say.
When my birthday arrived three months later, I rushed down our spiral staircase, my tights made that più manageable, even if my high heels did not. I’m wearing a hoop gonna like Cenerentola in the book of Fairy Tales Papa reads me. That is why my legs are hurting. I don’t care. It’s my Birthday!
“Happy Birthday Angel!” Papa picks me up and trails me around.
“Happy Birthday Darling” Mama kissed my cheek.
“May I please open my presents now?” I asked.
Mama and Papa laughed, “Of Course!”
My new sketchbook was covered in red leather and engraved “To My Little Miricle, Amore Papa” I read it all da myself! We had a six-layer mandorla cake with vanilla butter-cream frosting, I was not tall enough to blow out the candles without Papa lifting me! When the doorbell rang, the maid went with Mama to the door…. And my real Mama came in!
I wanted to run over and hug her and shout “I Amore you!” but I waved instead.
“Geneive gets her shyness from Raoul” My Aunt patted my real Mama on the shoulder.
“She gets a lot from Raoul,” My real Mama said, cooly.
“That’s why we invited te here, te can give Geneive something we can’t,” assured my Aunt.
“Sor-Sorelli how nice to see you,” I could tell from how my Papa blushed that he did not invite her.
“Hello, Genevieve” my real Mama whispered, her cheeks turning red. She detto the name she had dato me, before handing me over to the sisters at Hospice des Orphelins my most secret longing had been fulfilled.
“Hello” I could not help smiling, she was so beautiful! Her long blonde hair was straight like mine, her eyes were smeraldo green, then I noticed the small box tied with a ribbon she was trying to hand me.
“For me?” I detto trying to be polite.
“Go ahead open it,” smiled Papa.
After pulling at the knot holding the oro bow together and finally getting it loose, I pulled off the superiore, in alto of the flat burgundy box… Inside was a pair of ballet slippers!
“Go ahead honey try them on” coaxed Mama.
I slipped the slippers onto my tiny feet and my new Mama tied the ribbons.
I twirl and leap gracefully around the room.
“She’s a natural,” says my other Mama.
“You are performing in cigno Lake, aren't you? Little Jammes is performing the role of Price Siegfried, I hear she is wonderful,” detto Mama, looking expectedly at Papa
“Christine I forbid te to take her! Is to Dangours!,” Papa exclaimed.
As Mama puts me to bed, she whispers” I bought tickets. The successivo time Papa goes away with the navy we’re going!”
Can a girl be a Prince? My most secret birthday wish had come true!


Chapter 2
The Magic of Box Five



As the maid dresses me in my best mauve, lacy silk gown, I can hardly stand still! Mama comes in, polishing her opera glasses. Papa is on another Navy mission.
“You will be sitting right above the stage, Genevieve so te have to remember to be very quiet.”
The carriage seemed to fly us to the Opera. A black-cloaked man met us at the door.
“Hello my name is Erik, do te like chocolate?” He hands me a box. It takes me a minuto to notice fate like the ones I catch with Papa glowing where his eyes should be.
“Are te a fairy?” I ask breathlessly.
He bows “I am King of the Fairies.” he proclaims.
Mama laughs “If Raoul knew what te just said…”
“So he can play with her and I can’t?” Erik pouted. “I arranged this for te Geniveve, Benno, Prince Siegfried’s servant is traditionally the Travesty role, but since te Amore princes so much…. I hope te enjoy your birthday present from me!”
“You really are a fairy!” I say.
All too soon it was time for the ballet. Mama’s friend led us into his box, the plush red seats made the ache from my corset disappear!
My soul seemed to float on the music, I could feel myself spinning with every pirate, and leaping with every grande jatte! Seeing Prince Siegfried gave me a lightness, a burst of energy, and most of all happiness! “I never knew I could be a boy until I saw you! I want to be like you!” I squealed the moment I saw Little James.
“You are old enough to be trained as a dancer en travesty, your mama says te have a gift” She smiled at my first Mama.
“I will talk it over with my husband” smiled Mama.
I didn’t like that Siegfried and Odette died at the end though! When I got home, I told Paapa how sad it was!
“When te Amore somebody te do everything te can to be with them. Heaven is a lovely place to be. Let me get my telescope and I’ll mostra you,” detto Papa.
We walked outside, to the park, where Papa detto we could see the stars. He held the heavy telescope while I looked inside.
“Which one do te think is your Papa?”
I looked swaying the telescope back and forth.
“That one! It is twinkling as if to say I Amore you.”
My Papa smiled “That’s the one I picked too, he looks so happy to see us.” Papa’s smile was gentle but bright.

***

(Mama’s POV)


“I would like Genevieve to come to rehearsals with me today,” I declared.
“But why?” asked my husband.
“The Ballet Master would like to meet her, He says dancing is in her blood.”
“But- she’s shy like me” Raoul objected.
“You should have seen her at the Opera last night talking to Little Jammes, about getting to be a boy… I know te Amore her, she needs this.”
Raoul thought and he sighed.
“Only if I’m her patron,” He declared.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way” I assured him.



Chapter 3
A Very Talented Travesty


(Child’s POV)

As we walked into the rehearsal room, Mama was mobbed da a bunch of little girls. She handed each of them a piece of caramelle and then gave one to me!
“Everyone, this is my daughter, Genevieve,” I waved slightly.
A tall man walked up. “I am Missour Bernard, te will call me Missour is that understood?”
“Yes Missour,” I said, gulping.
“Now lets see how well te dance!”
After doing portabras and pleas a million times I am tired and hungry. My first Mama, La Sorelli, walks me to the cafeteria. She tells Mama, “She knows not to mostra she’s tired”
“I think that’s because she’s excited,” observed Mama.
I eat the bistecca and potatoes as quickly as I can. Mama talks about her day.
“La Carlotta no longer seems jealous of me, she detto she wouldn’t want to be burdened with a child; I told her Genevieve is the joy of my life!”
I grinned.
“This season the successivo ballet to be performed will be Geselle,” announced Missour Bernard. “And they want a few children for the first act, the elder girls will audition first.”
I watched the older girls, quietly moving my feet along with theirs. When it was finally my turn I let the Musica take me away from the staring eyes. After the Musica stops, Missour Bernard can’t hide his shock!
“Your Aunt and Mama told me te are più comfortable as a boy. May I call te Georges?” I nodded gratefully. “You learn fast,” he continued. “You can dance onstage in the back”
I wanted my Papa to be able to see me, but just not everyone so I was happy! When we got home I told Papa “The Musica makes me feel wonderful, and I get to be a village boy!”
“That’s wonderful-” his voice quivered.. He gave Mama a ‘we need to talk look.
“I better go practice,” I excused myself
***
(Mama’s Perspective)

“Christine, what did Erik do?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary… He thinks she wouldn’t have to rely on the foyer de la danse if she starts making money early.”
“She relies on me!” my husband seemed jealous.
“Think of Erik as an extra pair of eyes watching over her.”
“Yes, your Angel of Musica is good at spying…. We wouldn’t have gotten custody if he hadn’t admitted to killing Philippe at my trial. But what was his intention?”
“Same as you, to protect her” I answered.

***
(Child’s Perspective)

As I practiced my scampering, jumping mischievous little boy role, I got distracted looking at my first Mama. Missour Bernard snaps “Clumsy!” I stood up, I tripped only a little. “Focus on yourself boy!” he detto più gently, but crisply. I focus. I must not disappoint him! I glissade and ciseaux, and feel the joy of movement outside my corset, in my tan shirt, brown trousers, and vest, with a berretto, tappo to accent, for the first time I am free to be myself!
On the night of the performance, I was in the dressing room of my first Mama, (the Prima Ballerina had her own!) and I asked her about my Papa.
“What was he like?”
“He was tall, handsome, very gentle with me, he loved me… I tried to teach him ballet once, but he was too stiff!” she laughed with tears in her eyes.
“Would he have wanted me?”
“Absolutely!” she swooped me into a hug.
I take my position at the back of the stage when the curtain goes up I look for Papa… he’s in Box Five, phew! Then the Musica takes over and I dance! I’m the only child on stage.
When I return to my Mama’s dressing room Papa is there waiting.
“Did te see me, Papa? I was perfect!”
“You were so easy to find because te are so tiny!” he said, hugging me.“No matter where te go I will always find you!”
As Erik walks Mama and me home that night he asks her in a sincere tone “How do te know Raoul hasn’t cheated on you? He is a count after all”
“Erik te shouldn’t say such things in front of Genevieve!”
I look into his laughing eyes. “Mama he’s just teasing,” I say laughing.

***
(Erik’s POV)
I want to help Georges like I helped his Mama, I have to remember that the Managers don’t know a thing about music.
(Firmin Richard’s POV)
I Missour Firmin Richard found a blasted letter on my desk, from that annoying ghost;
Gentlemen,
Young Geniveve’s seventh birthday comes in March, and her Papa likes to give her dolls, it would be advised that the children perform the performance of Coppélia for her parents as a gift for the little girl. She will be cast as Franz, I do believe that was the tradition, and some traditions should never die. Franz is a damsel in distress! A pretty feminine role for a little girl don’t te think? No need to worry about where to get Animatronic dolls, Gentlemen, I am a ghost of many talents.
Your Obedient Servant,
O.G
(Child’s POV)

“We are putting on Coppélia for it will soon be Georges's birthday, and as a present to te all, it is little girls only!” announced Misspur Bernard. The girls cheered. “Now who would like to audition for Swanhilda?” Everyone raises her hand, but me. “Then Georges will be Franz and I will be Dr Coppélius since I’m old!” We all laugh.
This is my first time dancing with a partner, an extremely talented and beautiful 10-year-old girl named Priscilla, I hope to be just like her, as a boy! We battement and pas de cheval and triple pirouette; I can barely keep up! Priscila is kind and slows down. When I finally get it, we sposta on to act two. Missour Bernard and I relevé and tendu sneaking up on eachother. Then he makes me fall asleep like Snow White, except with a fake drink. Priscilla comes to my rescue and I am in her debt forever! I can’t understand how to stage baciare so we baciare for real in the wedding scene, which I like a lot!
Papa says “Did te baciare Priscilla?” She’s so beautiful and talented I don’t know why he’s surprised! We make our way to the foyer de la danse.
In the foyer de la danse I meet Papa’s friend the daroga.
“So you’re the little mutarajjila I’ve heard so much about,” he smiles.
“What did te just call her?” Papa looked startled.
“Mutarajjula means a girl who is like a boy”
“That's because she’s still in costume,” Papa explained.
What difference did a costume make? The daroga did not seem to think it made any difference I felt.
“Let us go to dinner,” detto Papa hurrying Mama and me out of the foyer.
I’m in my blue dress and tights and corset again, this time I’m aching and sad!
“I Amore Daroga! He didn't call me a girl!” I say enthusiastically!
“Sweetheart te know the ballet is just pretending don’t you?” asks Papa
I nod and quietly eat my herb-encrusted lamb.

***
(Mama’s POV)

“You know? mutarajjila does fit Genevieve.” I detto thoughtfully to Raoul after my niece went to bed.
“It’s too long to fit her,” he joked.
“The ballet master called her Georges. I asked him why, and he explained she should stay in character.”
Child’s POV ***
“Plié, port de bras, plié, port de bras, plié, port de bras, plié, port de bras, plié, port de bras…” My legs feel like gelatina I’m glad to sit down. It had been two years since my role in Gisselle. I longed to be on stage, out of this scratchy tutu, and in pants again! Missour Bernard announces “This season the ballet will perform Sleeping Beauty and I will be playing The evil fairy!” The other girls started laughing!
“Shut up!” I exclaimed, “If I can be a boy why can’t he be a lady?” The girls were stunned and quiet.
“Thank you, Georges, very insightful” smiled Missou Barrand. (Georges is what Missour Bernard calls me en travesty) “Would te like to play the prince since te are such a polite boy?”
“I’m playing the princess, won’t that be scandalous?” My first Mama, La Sorelli pointed out.
“Random boy at the Princess's birthday then.” Missour Barnard declared.“As for the rest of te te can practice through lunch for laughing at me!” the girls moaned. I grinned.
I Pas de Chat across the stage on opening night with a basket of violets for the baby Princess hanging over my arm, (which unlike thousands of times in rehearsal the basket doesn’t fall off), and then I watch the other dancers do their entertainment for the baby princess. Then, Missour Barnard as the Evil Fairy bursts in causing all sorts of havoc before cursing the baby! I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier! After the end of the performance, I asked him why he wanted to be the Evil Fairy.
“Because she’s the one with the power, who causes the whole plot to happen,” he answered.

***

(Mama’s POV)

“Why would the management allow Missour Barnard to play a woman?’ asked my husband.
“Because the man who choreographed it in Russia did,” I answered.
“But why would he want to do it?” asked Raoul, petulant.
“Why don’t te ask Missour Bernard?” I suggest.
“Never mind!” My husband crinkled his newspaper in a frustrated manner.



Chapter Four
My bottiglione, magnum Opus

(Child’s POV)

Two years later, Missour Bernard announces We are doing a new Children’s Ballet called The Nutcracker and they want us! All the girls cheer! I will have to compete with everyone it seemed, but they all wanted Marie, not the Nutcracker, I got the role then!

I burst into Papa’s study excitedly, “can te teach me to sword fight, Papa? I need to fight the ratto King!”

“I guess you’re going on eleven… Yes of course darling!” He pulls a sword and a dagger off the wall.

Lunging, swishing, blocking, swords clanking as we play, it’s exhilarating! We finally fall, exhausted and laughing!

“You’re very strong!” My cheeks glow with his praise.


***


In rehearsals, however, things don’t go so well. “Georges stop being so rough! This isn’t a battlefield! These are your friends!” Missour Bernard scolded.

I stop, looking down at my feet.

“It’s all right Georges, we do stage fighting differently your Papa doesn’t know that.”
He pulls me out into the hall and shows me prime, seconde, tierce, quarte, quinte, and sixte.

“Prime, sixte, quarte, tierce, and quinte” Missour Bernard directs us. This is the best giorno of my life!

Missour Bernard plays Herr Drosselmier Pirsilla plays Marie. It’s nice to dance with her again! We spend most of the performance just sitting there holding hands, and watching other dancers, but I don’t mind, I feel più like a boy than ever in my soldier's uniform!

Mama and Papa are there for our December 23rd performance. On Natale Eve I go to church in my blue velvet fur-lined dress. On Natale day, we take frutta and vegetable preserves to the Hospice des Orphelins where I was left as a baby and have our Natale feast of ham, rolls, potatoes, and asparago, asparagi for supper. We have hot cacao and frutta cake for dessert, the hot cacao is my favorite. The successivo giorno Papa reads a review of my performance in Le Matin.
“The young Nutcracker appears to be a sexless little sprite named Genevieve, who performs as if she were a boy.”
Papa looks at me. “Do te understand what Lerox is saying?”
I just smile.

Papa’s POV ***
“Her position in the Bourgeoisie has been brought into question!” I try to keep my voice down.
“What do te mean dear?” asks Christine.
“How is she going to get married?” I ask
“She’s ten I don’t think we should even worry about that yet” My wife is oblivious!
“Gaston Leroux called her “sexless” like she isn’t even human!” I exclaim.
“Genevieve didn’t mind. She loved that!” Christine was calm.
“You and Erik encouraged it- this- thing- I don’t know what-”
“Behavir” my wife finished for me.
“Erik still has a hold on te doesn't he?”
“No this was my Idea! I was the one who invited La Sorrelli, and she told me about Little James being Prince Siegfried in cigno Lake!” Christine was asserting herself!
“It was fine when it was understood she was a “She!” She can’t be a ballerina anymore!” I asserted back.
“I’ll be the one to tell her.” My poor wife looked defeated.
Child’s POV ***
Mama comes into my room with the breakfast tray. “Darling… Papa wants te to quit the Ballet.”
“Why?” I ask
“He wants his little girl back. What that review described confused him… He just doesn’t come from the world I do.”
“What is so confusing? I’m not a girl” I say.
“The Opera Is just pretend dear,” explains Mama.
“What-Why?” now I’m confused.
I don’t know” Mama Puts her arm around my shoulder.
I have to be a boy for real! If Travesty is only pretending to Papa…But how?

Chapter 5
My Assimilation


My Governess smiles at me from across the table. “Remember what te wanted to be when te grew up?”
“A Doctor!” I’m enthusiastic now.
“Your Papa agrees women can have careers because he met your mother during hers.” she paused, “Madeleine Alexandrine Brès was the first woman to be a doctor in France, she could take care of women better because she is a woman because women are different from men.”
“If a girl can be a boy at the Opera, then men and women aren’t different!” I retort, my anger coming out like lava erupting like a volcano! My voice rose louder than I meant it to.
“Would te rather be a wife? My Governess threatens.
definitely not, because “Wife” is not what te would call a boy! I keep this thought to myself, however.
My Governess teaches me Biology, Chemistry, and Math. Biology is gross! Blood, broken bones, where bambini come from…. Chemistry is fun, particularly the Bunson burner big flames make me feel excited! Math equations go in patterns and when te memorize the pattern, te can get it right every time!
As I try to fall asleep that night, my rag doll, Victoria, says “How are te doing Georges?”
I answered “I don’t want to be a doctor! I want to be a boy!”
“Well, many boys are doctors, but your being a girl would be important. Have te thought about maybe a doctor could turn girls into boys?”
“You mean perform magic?” I ask
“Science and magic aren’t that different stick with it and you’ll see..”
I must be dreaming! So I close my eyes…

(Papa’s POV)
My Sister bought her tattered copy of Little Women over as a gift for Geneive.
“When te told me about her wanting to be a boy I thought of Jo… Hopefully, this wil help”
“Doesn't the father die in that book?? I don’t need her asking più questions!”
“It's the sister Beth who dies,” she answered
“Would te like to see Genevieve?” I asked.
“I’m sorry I don’t have time to visit,” she just left!
I knew the fact that Philippe and Sorelli were not married was a disgrace… If either of my sisters took the time to get to know Geneive…
(Child’s POV)
Papa had a new story for me. It was the biggest book I had ever seen! He read ‘
Natale won’t be Natale without any presents,” grumbled Jo lying on the rug...
We had to stop when Meg and Jo got home from the New Year’s party.
“Do te know why Jo felt uncomfortable at the party?” Papa asked.
“Well corsets hurt and her hair pens hurt…but Laurie was nice and no one had to see her dress” I answered
“Laurie did,” Papa pointed out.
“But Laurie talked to her like she was a boy,” I clarified. “Papa… Girls being boys in plays is normal!”
“Yes, I suppose so. Let’s see how the rest of the story goes.”
When we finish, Jo is Married! This is what the word “Woman” means. “If te Amore someone it’s not a burden,” says Mama.
“I Amore Priscilla!” I declare.
“Women don’t marry each other.” Papa tries to explain.
“Why?” I of course ask.
“Because only a man and a woman can have babies, so it’s not practical.”
“Yuck!” I declare.
Now I know I don’t need to be a boy, but I just want to be a boy!
The successivo night Mama tells me of Bradamate the woman who was a knight.
“I Amore that she rescued Ruggreio, just like a boy would,” I detto enthusiastically!
“She’s like me I had to rescue Daroga and your Papa from Erik’s torture chamber because he wanted to marry me.”
“I thought Erik was your friend,” I detto dismayed.
“I knew him a long time before that happened, he pretended to be the Angel of Music, my father had detto he would send me, but he didn’t understand that he was a secondo father to me. The Angel was meant to look after me when my father could not. Once he understood I loved him, because I kissed him he let me marry Papa.!
“I Amore both Erik and Papa too,” I say “Mama if a girl can be a knight, Why can’t a girl be a boy?”
“If magic existed there wouldn’t be a reason,” Mama answered. “We just need something that doesn't require magic”
Like Science!
Chapter Six
The Trunk’s Key

(Child’s POV)
As is tradition, Mama, Papa, and I have a picnic in the attic on the anniversary of Daddy Daaé’s death so that we can tell his stories. My preferito is the Angel of Music. After our picnic, I explore the relics of the attic. At last, I come across Papa’s old trunk, and in it his old suits, I find a dark blue one that’s about my size, I change into it and go to the park After climbing trees, I go for a walk and run into Police Commissioner Mifriod.
“Excuse me, miss, do te have a permit to be dressed like a boy!” Drat my long hair!
“No, why?”
“It’s the law,” says Mifriod, “What’s your name?”
“Geniveve de Changy,” I say because I’m not at the Opera anymore! It hurts to lie to him.
“That explains this,” He rolls his eyes “I’m going to take te home, this time.” he takes my hand and walks me home. Of course, Papa opens the door
“Genieve I was so worried where- I’m so sorry she is… imaginative. This won’t happen again”
“I knew te are eccentric de Changy, but this… Mifriod walks away shaking his head.
da that time Mama has come to see what’s going on. “Geniveve why would te leave without telling anyone?”
“I’m sorry Mama... Missour Mifriod impliedI could get a permit, How?”
“From a doctor, I asked our family Lawyer, Missouri Ozanne, because I feared this would happen,” sighed Papa. “I’ll go get the Doctor” Papa left
When the doctor came he asked, “Do te still find corsets uncomfortable?”
“Yes, it hurts my sides,” I answer.
“How about the tutus at the Opera?’ the doctor asks.
“They’re too scratchy,” I say
“Can te wear high-heeled shoes?” the Doctor asks.
“They pinch my toes, which hurts,” I explain.
“How about feather boas?
“They itch,” I explained.
“Well there does appear to be a medical reason, she's sensitive.” proclaims the Doctor Papa sighed, this time with relief.
***
(Papa’s POV)
I go to the police station with the Authorization Letter for Police Commissioner Mifriod.
“Why didn’t te just tell her it was illegal? te didn't have to allude to there being a permit!”
“I saw the review in Le Matin, since te are eccentric, being that stunt te and your friend pilled at your trial, I figured your niece was as well.”
“So you're saying this is my fault?” I rebuked.
“Yes,” snapped Mifriod, “Now here’s her permit, get out of my office!”
I gladly did so.
***
(Child’s POV)
“Your Mama insisted I take te to the tailor’s since I’ve worn a suit before,” explained Papa. as we sat in the carriage.
I fidget in my sede, sedile in anticipation. When we get to the tailor shop, I run in. A arcobaleno of muted colori hits my eyes. The Tailor smiled at me, “Welcome, my little friend, Your Papa told me all about you”
He measured me carefully, measuring my chest, my waist, and the length of my leg. “Pick the colori te like,” says the Tailor.
I pick dark blues and greens, and browns, and then dark reds and white for the camicia that goes under the jacket. As it will take time to sew the Suits we, unfortunately, have to leave the shop.
“When will my Suits be ready?” I ask Paoa.
“They will all be ready in a few months,” risposte Papa.
“I approved of te wearing pants,” says My Governess, “Women should be allowed to wear what they want.”
“Like Missour Bernard wanted ti to wear a dress as the Evil Fairy in Sleeping Beauty” I analogized.
The look of shock on my Governess’s face says it all.

(Papa’s POV)
“Mifriod still thinks I made the crimes Erik committed up,” I tell Christine.
“Erik wore his mask in court,” reminded my wife. “He couldn’t tell who he was and wrongfully assumed he was a friend of ours”
“He thinks I made Genevieve act that way that’s why he let her go,” I voiced my contempt.
“I don’t think that makes sense,” comforted Christine, “I think God gave us a miracle”
“He certainly did,” I agreed.
***
(Child’s POV)
One day, the boxes from the Tailor negozio arrive! The servants carry the boxes up and put them to the side of the full-length mirror in my room. I pull the pants on first on the right leg then the left leg, pulling them up until the cuffs are just above my feet. Then after my maid takes off my dress and corset, I turn the camicia so I can see the inside, reaching my left arm to the hole that looks like it is on the right fionda my arm back, turning my arm in a circle, to get the sleeve over my shoulder, and push my arm through the sleeve, doing the same thing with my right. I bring the buttons to the hole and push each one through the hole starting from the top. I put the giacca on doing the same thing with my arms as I did with the shirt. I don’t know what to do with the tie and ask Papa for help.
“Make the color of your camicia stand up, then put the tie around it unevenly. Make an X then avvolgere the thick end of the tie around the thin end, then push through the loop around your neck to form a knot, then push the thick end of the tie down through the knot.”
I look in the mirror and feel light, bouncy, and free!
“Do te know te are my Miricle, Dressed like that te look almost like…”
“My first Papa, Does that make te sad?” noticing the tears in his eyes.
“No, I feel complete again” Papa smiles “Are te comfortable?”
I would like short hair “A lot più comfortable than I felt in a long time,” I say truthfully.

Chapter Seven
Deus Ex Machina
Over the successivo five years, my breasts have grown, and I try not to look in mirrors anymore. So of course, my Governess decides to tell me all about them.
“They produce latte to feed your baby, the danger is they can get cancer and have to be cut off”
“How do te get cancer?” I ask intrigued.
“I don’t know,” She shows me a letter from Frances Burney written in 1811 explaining the removal of a breast. When Daroga comes to cena he asks “Genevieve were te only pretending to be a boy at the Opera?”
“Missiur Barnard let me be a boy!” I replied
“Did te like that?” he asked.
“Yes, because I am a boy”
“Isam says al-khilqī, o pretending to be another gender is wrong, but te say te weren’t?”
“I was not pretending!” I exclaim.
“You were in costume Genevieve! That’s pretending!” exclaims Papa horrified.
“That was the only way I could be a boy! I want to be one for real!”
“It would bring te peace then?” asked Daroga
“Yes,” I piped
“Then te must let him,” Daroga told Papa.

“Is that even possible?...” Papa drops off.

I give Frances Burney’s letter to Daroga. He knows who to give it to.

“Geniveve get back in bed!” My Governess demands that night.

“I’m going to be a boy, I am going back to the Opera and te can’t stop me!” I scream at my Governess.

“At least let me take you,” detto Erik, who was standing on my balcony.

He propels us down the side of the mansion We walk through the streets to the Opera, we go through Mama’s dressing room mirror then down to the lake, rowing across it.

When we get to the house on the lake Erik says “I know te don’t want people to notice te have breasts… te gave a letter from Frances Burney explaining how to remove them, I can do that if I follow her instructions-”

“You can do that?” I interrupt excitedly.

Papa bursts through the door Mama, and La Sorelli my first Mama, behind him, “You give her back to me!” My Governess must have told them.
"Please, don't drown her!" screams my first Mama.

“He is not here against his will, he ran away, but I’m glad te are here, I was just going to start the surgery.”

“WHAT SURGERY! Why?”Papa seemed scared.

“Because some girls who are like boys, but then there are girls who are boys” explained Daroga, who had brought Erik the letter.

“I don’t want my breasts!” I exclaim!

“How will te take care of your children?” Papa asked as if that was at all important at the moment!

“I will figure it out,” I say

“Erik’s not a doctor! Papa says.

“He's a Genius it’s the same thing!” I argue back.

“He doesn't have a medical degree, is what Papa means,“ says Mama “Erik are te sure te can do this?”

“Yes, it’s not too different from what I used to do as the Royal Executioner of Persia. Except he’ll be alive at the end!’

” HOW DO I KNOW THAT? THEY ARE ABOVE HER cuore AND LUNGS! And all you’ve done is kill people!” Papa was panicking. “And she’s A beautiful young woman!”

“I’m a man Papa!” Didn’t te know that from the way I stared at the picture of the Prince when I was little?

Papa looked at me “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’re not me,” I expressed my frustration.

“I knew,” sighed Mama “I’ve known for a long time.”

“I knew from the way Christine described him,” Daroga displayed his open-mindedness.

"I knew he was a masterful Dancer En Tavesty I never knew why though," my first mama, La Sorelli, admitted.

“I think God made te this way If an actual doctor does this I’ll let te but first I will cut your hair,” Papa smiled in relief.

Mama takes. her sewing scissors out of her pocket, and Papa carefully cut my hair.

Long story short Erik did the surgery because no doctor would.